Schemes and Surprises
by Saturdaychick
Summary: Erik, Christine, and Raphael celebrate the holidays


**Schemes and Surprises**

Erik was bent over the organ, quill in hand, alternately writing down notes and trying them out on the keyboard when a sound interrupted his train of thought. Again. The sound was… giggling! He secretly enjoyed this disruption though he could never let on, and he smiled to himself… even as he roared "What is this infernal racket? Can't a genius compose in peace?"

Christine and Raphael appeared around the corner of his library, where he had made a space for Raphael to sleep and keep his things. Christine looked lovely, her cheeks pink, her eyes shining as she hugged the little boy to her side, and Rafe, as she called him, looked equally handsome, his black curls glossy and his large brown eyes bright and filled with mischief. What had these two been up to?

"Sorry, Monsieur Genius" Christine laughed. "You will understand our secrets very soon, right, Rafe?"  
>"Oui, Monsieur Genius. Very soon" he replied and had to hide his face to prevent Erik from seeing through his mask of innocence.<p>

"Hmmm." Erik looked them over and his heart, that black heart that thought it would die without ever knowing love, without ever having someone love him for himself, had come alive since the day Christine had come to him and accepted his proposal, and since he had rescued the little gypsy boy from an uncertain fate. Now he had a family. Even though that family was currently plotting something secretive.

"It is Christmas Eve, tonight, Erik… and do you remember what you promised?" Christine asked, moving to Erik's side so he had to look up at her angelic face from the piano bench.  
>He blinked. Drat. How could he have forgotten? He had hoped, against hope, that Christine would have, as well, but he know when she had her mind made up… nothing could dissuade her.<p>

"I remember," he sighed. "You wanted us to attend Midnight Mass at the church. So be it. Your wish is my command."  
>"Good. Remember, we have to get there early. Now, come with me, my fiancé, and see what Rafe and I have prepared for you." And she took Erik's hand and pulled him up, so he towered over her, and with Rafe dancing around them, led him into the parlor, where at the center stood a Christmas tree filling the room with its fresh pine scent, and glowing with red candles and glass ornaments and at the top, an angel holding a violin. An Angel of Music.<br>"Surprise" they both shouted! "Merry Christmas!"  
>He didn't know what to say. Never, in his whole long life, had anyone ever done anything so thoughtful for him. Nor had he ever, even as a child, experienced the holidays as a participant. Only as an outsider, always looking in, watching, wondering what it must be like to know such love and merriment. Tears came to his eyes, and he wiped them away. He cleared his throat, and fraught with emotion whispered "Thank you. It is almost too much to take in." then gaining control of himself, asked " When did you do all this? How was I unaware? I knew you were up to something, my dear," and he embraced Christine, who stood on her toes to kiss his unmasked face. "You were so absorbed in your composing, that we could have burned down the Opera House before you ever noticed what we were doing!" She stepped back and he reached for Rafe, and bent down to give him a hug, which the boy returned, warmly, and grinned, "This is my first Christmas, too! In the camp, they sometimes sang songs or roasted a lamb, but nothing for me. Not once. Not ever." And, again, Erik felt his heart blacken at the thought of the mistreatment Raphael had suffered, and how he had vowed, never again, and did whatever he could to make the boy's life as happy and filled with light and joy. Something he was learning to experience, himself.<p>

He noticed several wrapped gifts and remembered that he had hidden away several presents that he had purchased ahead of time and then forgotten about in the heat of composing, something he used to do for days on end, without thought of food or time passing. Once in a while, he missed the solitude to compose undisturbed, but never, never would he trade that for the life he had now. Christine would become his bride on New Year's Day. He still could not believe it. No longer would she make the journey back to her dressing room to sleep after spending her evenings with Erik and Rafe. This would be her home. Until the day he could build her and Rafe a real one. Something he'd been sketching and planning for months.

Sometime later, Christine went off to ready herself for attending the Midnight Mass and then took Rafe away to pick out his wardrobe as Erik washed, shaved and dressed in his evening wear and a particularly handsome opera cape that had a hooded cowl to keep his masked presence from the other church goers and hoped to hide in the back.

When the carriage dropped them off at the little church, Erik was secretly pleased that Christine had not chosen some grand Parisian cathedral. The priest, standing at the door, greeted each arrival with a warm handshake. Seeing Christine and Rafe he grinned broadly and, was Erik mistaken? even gave the two a sly wink! What was going on? He shook Erik's hand and looking up at his masked visage, said, "So, finally we meet. I am so pleased you have joined us this evening." Erik nodded, uncomfortably.

Christine led him to a bench, towards the back of the church. Then, abruptly, disappeared. Before he could sneak away, she was back without Rafe. She squeezed his hand and he allowed himself to relax, slightly. He looked around_surreptitiously_ at the crowd and noticed they were all towns' people, not the aristocrats or wealthy that attended the opera house. He wondered what drew Christine here, and was glad that this was where she felt comfortable, perhaps making her think of her early Christmases in Sweden. Now, where was Rafe? He was about to ask when the Priest called for the congregation's attention and began the mass. When he had finished and the congregation was once more settled on the benches, somewhere, someone began playing a small pipe organ, and then, he heard voices rising, a choir, and it sent chills down his spine, as he realized that one voice stood out from all the others, and it was Raphael's, singing the Christmas song "Oh, Holy Night".

He felt tears, and his heart swelled with pride at the sound of Rafe's beautiful voice, a voice he had been nurturing for the 7 months since he first brought him home. And, he could see, this was what Christine had been doing on some of those evenings when she wasn't performing, and had whisked Rafe away with her to who knows where.

"Merry Christmas, my Angel" Christine whispered in Erik's ear. "Were you surprised?"  
>"Completely. Words cannot express what I feel, right now." He replied. When was the Opera Ghost ever at a loss for words? And later, when they were once more ensconced in their home in the fifth cellar under the Paris Opera House, Erik opened a bottle of champagne and poured out two wine glasses and then a small glass with a drop for Rafe. "To you, my two schemers, " he lifted a glass to them, "You have given me the best present ever!"<br>"But you haven't even opened them yet, Erik, " Rafe admonished.  
>"I need nothing more than to have you two, sneaky as you may be, to shake up my life and fill it with annoyances, disruptions and … fun!" He laughed, and they all clinked glasses.<br>"And, a book, Erik, I got you a book. Oh! It was supposed to be a surprise!" he clamped his hand over his mouth and blushed.  
>"To be honest, Raphael, I don't think this old Opera Ghost can take many more surprises in one evening!" and with that, late as it was, they all sat down around the Christmas tree and reveled in each other's company.<p> 


End file.
